


It's A Coincidence

by ZeevaWyte



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Supernatural
Genre: Emotional Hurt, Eventual Comfort, F/M, Found Family, He's ok though, I mean, I should probably tag that, M/M, besides the emotional trauma, the 'main character death' tag is just because Gabe "dies" at the beginning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-28
Updated: 2019-03-01
Packaged: 2019-07-18 12:46:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16118771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZeevaWyte/pseuds/ZeevaWyte
Summary: When humans die they go to heaven or hell. When monsters die they go to purgatory. But what happens when an angel dies? Not even the Archangels have the answer to that question. Most assume nothing.When Gabriel dies at the hands of his brother he's not expecting to wake up at all, let alone in a dirty alley in upstate New York.Except... something isn't quite right about the city...Or the universe.





	1. If Hope Is For Fools Then Call Me Foolish

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the people who follow me for FaVtL and Time Roulette I AM WORKING ON THOSE I PROMISE it's just I've had this idea forever and I keep pulling it up to edit instead of working on other stuff so I'm hoping putting it here will make me leave it alone for a while. (ah ha, like my brain ever cooperates like I want it to)
> 
> For everyone else: Hi! I hope you enjoy this fic. Gabriel is always fun to write with new characters and MCU fix-its are a lifesaver for some (what with the current state of things) so I figured why not put them together? 
> 
> The 'Main Character Death' tag is relevant in this chap even if it's not super graphic or permanent so take that into consideration. It's not entirely necessary to the rest of the fic (mainly set-up and staging) so you can skip if you need to. Stay safe!

_“Some spiritual people say there's no such thing as coincidence. And I guess I can't know if it's the chicken or the egg for my lack of spirituality. But I do believe in coincidence. I believe in it very much. I see it everywhere. I have to. Otherwise I'd start to believe the universe is adversarial, and I don't need another opponent right now.”_ ― Jamie Mason, Monday's Lie

 

\---

 

 _Pain_.

 

Pain like nothing he had ever experienced coursed through him. Agony as arcs of lightning racing through every part of his being, radiating from the point where the angelic sword had slipped between his vessel’s ribs. The power from the blade seared its way through his grace, white-hot and burning him from the inside out.

 

It was _agonizing._ Seconds felt like hours as his very essence was ripped apart, a kaleidoscope of light and dark and heat and _burning._

 

He couldn’t move. His vessel was paralyzed as his grace turned to liquid fire within him, the only thing he could do was stare into the cold eyes of the Devil. The Morning Star. Once the brightest light in all of Heaven. _His older brother_.

 

Lucifer watched with cold detachment as Gabriel’s life faded right in front of his eyes, hand unfailingly steady on the sword still lodged in the younger Archangel’s chest.

 

He had hoped-

 

 _Ha_.

 

_Hope._

 

Through the haze of pain Gabriel nearly scoffed at his own thoughts. _He sounded like the Winchesters…_

 

He _wanted_ to hope that Lucifer wouldn’t kill him. He had _wanted_ _so much_ to believe that the loving older brother he remembered was still in there, somewhere.

 

But one look at the empty eyes staring back at him dashed any hope he might have been holding onto.

 

Gabriel’s brother was dead. All that was left of him now was this hollow shell with a millennia-old grudge and too much power for anyone’s good.

 

He had _known_ \- he _knew_ this is what would happen. He _knew_ Lucifer would kill him if he got in the way. Michael might have had mercy- tried to talk him down or just wound him enough to keep him out of the way. But _Lucifer_ … Gabriel knew facing him as an adversary was a suicide mission. Even if he had a backup plan or a trick up his sleeve there was every possibility that his brother would see right through it. He wasn’t known as the King of Deception for nothing.

 

So _why?_

 

_Why did I face him anyway?_

 

Was it really for humanity? He liked humans, yeah. Some of them were screwed up as all hell, but a lot of them were truly kind despite the odds. They were more extreme than most angels could ever be. Hot and cold, impossibly good and unthinkably bad. But there was also every degree in-between. Good and bad housed in the same vessel at the same time, at war but complementary. It made them the most interesting and unique of all his Father’s creations.

 

But if he had really done it for _them_ he would have found another way, right? A live archangel on their side was more valuable than a dead one. Plan or no plan.

 

Was it for his brother? Did he want to give Lucifer another chance? Get him to see what Gabriel himself had discovered after millennia of living among humans? That they were flawed, yes, but that’s what made them extraordinary?

 

Or was he just tired like he told the Winchesters? Tired of the fight, tired of the hiding, tired of the _pain_ -

 

Just… ready for it all to be over?

 

He didn’t know. But whatever the reason, he had made his choice and it was far too late to take it back now.

 

As the last vestiges of his grace began to fade and his vision wavered, Gabriel felt a strange, creeping emptiness overcome him. The feeling accompanied the loss of his power and a wave of discomfort that he had never experienced before washed over his vessel, causing his hands to tremble lightly where they were clutching Lucifer’s shirt. It took him longer than it should have to identify the cause.

 

Cold.

 

He was _cold._

 

If he still possessed the presence of mind to do more than simply acknowledge what was happening, he would have wondered at the alien sensation. Angels weren’t from the physical plain and were thereby unaffected by heat or cold in the way that humans were.

 

Even now, he knew that the chill he felt was not a product of the planet’s ecosystem but instead came from the quickly darkening place inside of him where his grace once burned brightly.

 

He was dying.

 

_Heh, didn’t even get to go out with a bang._

 

As his vision began to waver he wondered if anyone would even care that he was gone.

 

Certainly not the Pagans. They might miss him every now and then, but gods died or disappeared all the time.

 

Most of the Host thought he was already dead. And didn’t _that_ sting. The family that was supposed to be connected with each other at all times wouldn’t even know the difference once he was gone. But he supposed that was his own fault…

 

Maybe the Winchesters? He had done this to buy them time after all. Although, he had been a pretty big dick to them in the beginning. It was what he thought was best at the time, but now he knew he could have handled the whole thing better.

 

Perhaps their fallen guardian angel, Castiel. Gabriel had always liked the little seraph. Especially after he had grown a backbone and split from those asshole puppeteers upstairs.

 

Three cheers for Free Will.

 

Gabriel’s last thought was of the little rag-tag team he had thrown his lot in with.

 

He hoped they managed to do the impossible.

 

_Ha, there’s that word again._

_Hope._

 

 _Well,_ he thought faintly, _maybe hope isn’t so bad._

 

His musings were cut off with a flash of light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are so lucky. This was originally going to end up waaaaay more depressing. When I was first composing this in my head I had his last thoughts come full circle and be about how the pain of being killed by his brother was worse than the physical pain of dying and all that happy stuff, but then I got to the thoughts on Team Free Will and hope and it feels more right to have his last thoughts be about _what_ he died for rather than who killed him. 
> 
> Don’t worry though, there’ll be plenty of angst about Gabe’s more intricate feelings on this whole matter later, he just ran out of time here. Ya know, what with _dying_ and all. That kind of thing really gets in the way of a good internal monologue…


	2. Not Dead?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Concrete is never something that's fun to wake up on. Then again, Gabriel didn't think he would be waking up at all.

 

 _“Of course, a story always begins with such a coincidence.”_ ― Kōji Suzuki, Ring

 

\---

 

Awareness came as a dull but deep-rooted ache in his grace. An acute, throbbing pain within his being that he couldn’t begin to fathom the reason for.

 

_Oww… What the hell…?_

 

The last time he felt even close to this drained was when Sigyn accidentally discovered that warped angel banishing sigil. The symbols had been butchered enough by time and translation that it didn’t so much _banish_ as make him feel like he had been whacked in the chest with a heavenly sledgehammer.

 

But even getting hit with an onslaught of power like that wouldn’t explain how _raw_ his grace felt right now. Like someone had-

 

_-his very essence was ripped apart, a kaleidoscope of light and dark and heat and **burning**. He couldn’t move. His vessel was paralyzed as his grace turned to liquid fire-_

 

…

 

… _ah_.

 

That would do it.

 

He had decided to join up with the humans and stand up to his brother. An action that got him the predictable result.

 

 _But then why aren’t I dead? At least, I don’t **think** I’m dead_ …

 

With Herculean effort (in the metaphorical sense. The real Hercules was little more than a whiny, childish “macho man” with laughable powers) Gabriel managed to uncurl his shaky grace from the proverbial ball it had pulled itself into in self-defense and direct it outward to ascertain his surroundings.

 

The first thing he realized was that he was still in his vessel.

 

Probably not dead then.

 

Which, was honestly more than he was expecting.

 

His vessel was also all in one piece, lacking the gaping hole in its chest that Gabriel vividly remembered receiving. Again, more than he was expecting. It was a good thing though, he didn’t think he had the strength to even _move_ his body let alone heal it from a fatal wound.

 

Unfortunately, moving was exactly what he needed to do. His grace was too fragile to stretch far enough to gage his location at the moment, and he really needed to get somewhere safe so he could recuperate. Mostly-powerless archangel would be a very tempting target for any being with less than noble intentions that might come along.

 

He could pull off a pretty good damsel in distress if he did say so himself, but actually _being_ one wasn’t something he was eager to try anytime soon.

 

Stretching his grace even farther from his core he directed it to flow though and inhabit every bit of his human body, settling comfortably into the form with the ease of thousands of years of familiarity. As he did, he became aware of the rough texture of the ground beneath his hands and cheek. With more concentration than it really should have taken, he forced his eyes to blink open and was greeted with the sight of brightly colored graffiti decorating a crumbling brick wall.

 

The next thing that hit him was the smell, and he didn’t even have to try to make a face at it.

 

Taking a deep breath through his mouth to fill his fully-functional lungs, he closed his eyes and just felt his body work for a moment.

 

Heart beating, blood pumping, air flowing easily in and out…

 

 _Alive_.

 

Technically he didn’t need any of that to survive, but the repetition of the involuntary actions was soothing to him. The rhythm of it calming, like the weight of a well-loved blanket, and reminding him that he was _still here_. Still _alive_ , despite the odds.

 

With another breath that turned into a sigh halfway through he gathered his determination, drew his arms close to his torso, and _pushed_.

 

It took _way_ too much energy to lift himself.

 

 _I should **not** be struggling this hard with getting myself off the damn **floor**._ He thought in frustration as he got a knee underneath him and forced his body into a sitting position. Hands still braced on the grimy concrete for fear of toppling over and making the whole venture pointless, he paused. Taking stock of his position.

 

He was panting. _Heavily_. Angels didn’t need to breathe, but it had long since become habit to mirror what he was actually feeling in his human body and he was _exhausted_. His arms were shaking, his head was spinning, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to stay upright.

 

He had _never_ felt this weak before. Not once in his very long existence had he ever been so drained that he couldn’t even _stand_.

 

What was he going to do? He couldn’t stay here, it wasn’t safe. But he could barely lift his head. There was no way he was going to be able to get himself to his feet, let alone stay there long enough to go anywhere.

 

Just as he was trying to fight the fog in his brain long enough to come up with something close to a plan, a young-sounding voice called from nearby.

 

“Uh, hey dude, are you okay?”

 

Opening eyes that he hadn’t realized he’d closed, Gabriel managed to look up at the kid standing uncertainly near the end of the alley his was sprawled in.

 

Young, teen maybe? Wearing a nice uniform and backpack with a wary but concerned look on his face.

 

But the thing that caught and held his attention the most was how bright his soul was. It was more common to see bright souls the younger the person was, but this one was warm and kind and Gabriel didn’t have to look very hard to see that this was a good kid.

 

A tired but real smile pulled at his lips as he mustered up the energy to form a reply.

 

He’d always had a soft spot for kids.

 

“Not really.” His chuckle resembled airy huffs more than they did an actual laugh. Another wave of exhaustion caused Gabriel to drop his head again and allow his eyes to fall shut. “Don’t suppose you could call 911 for me? I don’t know where my phone is.” Not that he thought he could use it if he did.

 

“Oh- of course!” There was scuffling as the kid moved a bit further into the alley and the quiet sound of a phone dialing.

 

After a few seconds he heard the call pick up and the kid started rambling.

 

“Yeah, um, I was walking home from school and I found this guy mostly unconscious in an alleyway? He’s breathing really hard and doesn’t look so good. He asked me to call 911.” He paused and listened to whatever the operator was saying, Gabriel was too tired to try and eavesdrop. “Uh, no I don’t. Hey dude, are you injured or something?”

 

He tried to answer. He really did, but Gabriel had just about reached his limit.

 

The last thing he heard was the kid’s panicked voice as his arms gave out and he hit the pavement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like ending chapters with Gabe unconscious don’t I? Oh well. I should really be working on my other stories (or better yet _school_ ) but I did this instead because my brain hates me. At least it’s being productive on _something_.  
>  I would love to be able to promise consistent updates but well ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


End file.
